


Halcyon You Are

by Tizian23



Category: Carl Barât - Fandom, Peter Doherty - Fandom, The Libertines
Genre: Band Fic, Boys In Love, Falling In Love, Friendship/Love, Insight, Love Confessions, M/M, Sex Drugs and Rock and Roll, carls pov, observation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:41:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23229529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tizian23/pseuds/Tizian23
Summary: Carl fell in love,He remembers the exact moment.
Relationships: Carl Barât & Pete Doherty
Comments: 4
Kudos: 47
Collections: Peter and Carl fics to lift our spirits during self-isolation





	Halcyon You Are

**Author's Note:**

> Silly cute little drabble so full of love

For about 16 years now I've been trying to wrap my head around what I feel when I look at you. You are multicolored, mercurial and change sometimes in the blink of my eye. I try not to let myself get blinded by your eclipses. I would be lying if I said I'm not still as excited when I look at you as I was the very first time, realising how fucking special you are.  
Back then i had not yet noticed how damn mad you can drive me with ALL kinds of feelings, but can you imagine my astonishment when I looked at you sitting next to me on the edge of some ratty couch somewhere talking to someone - with your hands too as you always do - bright eyes and ever hitching voice lost in that conversation. Your fine hair was askew, almost haloing you though the backlights, you licked your lips and looked over to me, smiled, then back to that someone . I think that was the first time I felt this intense pang of pride and want that your affection never again failed to give me. I wanted to touch you from that moment on and it has not left me since.  
Even when we forced ourselves to think we hated each other and I didn't wanna talk to you because I knew we d first snarl - then yell - at each other to hang up and call again, crying, not being able to let go in anger. Even then, seeing you on a photo - or worse - at a party, made a lost painful red spark of want fizz up in me like blood in the ocean after the shark ate you.... I looked over, smiling back, letting my eyes swipe over your collar bone, unintentionally exposed in your ripped t shirt.  
You sometimes rub it absentmindedly with your thumb when thinking, looking for a word or trying to catch the string of quirky thought that had managed to escape your mind again.. Your mind is faster than most people's and that makes you hard to nail about anything... hm.. even for yourself at times I think.. So I slide my eyes over you and think bewilderedly that I like the milk white skin that covers you, that I wanna see more of it than I can just now. That I have pet beauty spot of yours, worse still, even more than one. On the back of your right shoulder. I have seen that one so often but I never wanted to kiss it. Fuck! Now I want to... And the other one near your mouth, the one I've already kissed a couple of hundred times I think, never in a naughty context though.  
Now I am smiling, you reach over, rubbing my knee while still talking to that bloke about...I prick up my ears..Ah.."Rimbaud" you just said. Using my knee for leverage you get up , fleetingly touching my neck whilst walking away. I can still feel your guitar finger tips rub melodies in my hidden skin. I assess your arse, clad in dirty jeans, loose, but I still can see what I'd feel under my hands if I grab it. Its tiny, considering your actual size,but kinda apple shaped I guess. Lost for the right accord, mind you I normally admire perfect girl's bottoms, not my best friends.  
Still your skinny frame does somehow hide how tall you actually are, I notice how people often look up to you in amazement when they see you for the first time. It always leaves me snickering. Your legs are so long it's almost impossible to grasp sometimes, like one of these long legged african gazelle things.. Just like them you move with grace, carrying yourself in this special hyper-mobile way that only gangly boys have. You bounce a little through the room and I can see you move in rhythm even with the lame electro beat in the background. Yeah you got it, and I wonder if that carries over into bed. I've heard you before, you must be pretty decent, judging by the noise you cause. How much could I make you moan? I allow myself this thought, but only almost.  
You stand by the door now, talking to some bird, in your one hand 2 beers, raking your hair with the other one, unaware of the cat like way this makes you stretch your whole body. I can see the little notches of your spine unrolling through your t-shirt like a cobra raising its head . It's incredibly sexy in its obliviousness. I know you can be very flirty and captivating in a very intentional way. Amazing to watch how it charms almost everyone. But I like watching you being unaware of being watched. While minding your own business and when being with me. Yes. my love I've noticed you bounce different with me.  
You turn around and walk though the room, eyes on me, and why the hell does this look like a promise of all the things I cant even imagine? The tattoos on your arm turn you from an innocent looking suggestion into a dirty pretty guarantee. I am again swept away by the  
implicitness that you move with, not seeming to ever have hint of doubt about yourself, all smiles and awkward angles, dirty fingers and words that no one is ever put off by. When did you grow so comfortable in your skin? That silken, transparent white, so vulnerable looking, so full of fluttering heart beats I can actually see them... but yet so sure of yourself and that you're loved?

Looking at you I fucking hear the music. Not that lame electro here, but the music in you, that we will write together and sing heat to heart into each other's fucking eyes. And that is not a promise it's given.


End file.
